


To come Undone, Song Fic - Harry Potter

by Ani1OutThere



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Actual plot, Cursed, Cursed Hogwarts, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Not just song lyrics, Song Fiction, Song fic, Song: It’s Over Isn’t It?, Steven Universe References
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-24
Updated: 2020-08-24
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:27:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26081917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ani1OutThere/pseuds/Ani1OutThere
Summary: It's Valentine's day and Everyone from the ghosts of Hogwarts to the moving paintings are cursed to sing their heart's desire by the end of the day.Only one man seemed unaffected, armed with Occlumency, and accustomed to blocking out unwanted emotions. Severus Snape becomes undone as he is forced to confront his hidden emotions in front of the son of his mortal enemy, and his greatest love.Hogwarts is ready to hear Snape's song, but is he?
Kudos: 3





	To come Undone, Song Fic - Harry Potter

**Author's Note:**

> [Song: It’s over isn’t it, Steven Universe] - Some verses were changed or removed in order to avoid plagiarism and to keep characters IC

Severus Snape was not a pleasant man. One could even go as far as to say that he was a very unpleasant man, and his physical features did well to warn others about that fact. His dark eyes glittered like that of a beetle, and with his shallow pale features and hooked nose, he was a sight for sore eyes.

Currently, Snape was participating in his favorite activity. The act of pacing menacingly back and forth in front of a silent classroom was calming to him. As someone who very much disliked children, 'Bumbling, Gawping little twats', Snape was a subversion to what one would expect of a proper teacher.

Snape's eye's snapped angrily in the direction of the foolish Hogwarts second year who dared to utter a single syllable in his potions class.

"Dean Thomas!" He shouted, taking silent pleasure at the Gryffindor boy who jumped in fright at the sound of his name coming from the professor's lips.

"Is it not enough that you came a minute late to my classroom?" Glowered Severus, his teeth bared into a silent snarl. "But you disrupted it with your idiocies and dreadful singing. Pray to tell, what do you have to say that was so important that you cannot wait for 10 minutes until you are dismissed from my classroom."

Thomas stared defiantly as all Gryffindors did, as he spat out, "Nothing, Professor." The boy gritted his teeth, as he looked away from the older man. His cheeks a burning red, a tell at the boy's embarrassment at being called out.

"What was that," Snape provoked, "I did not hear you over your sniveling. 10 points from Gryffindor for your cheek. You would do well-showing respect."

"Professor!" The boy cried outraged, "The Quidditch match is only a few day's away, you can't take away points now, not after we won them back from those slimy Slytherins-"

"Another 10 points for speaking out of turn," Snape smirked, well aware of the gripes that Quidditch brought. After all, he knew that he had to do his part to make sure that Gryffindor lost the house cup to Slytherin. He was sorely irritated at McGonagall's bragging after Harry Potter broke their six-year-record.

"But, Professor-" Thomas protested before being silenced by Snape's glare.

"Is that another 10 points that I hear coming from your mouth?" Snape asked dangerously.

"It's not my fault that I had to sing a stupid song, everyone had to sing a stupid song. Except you. I just wanted to know why you were exempt from the prank that even Dumbledore couldn't escape nor undo." The boy muttered, against the look of caution that his best-friend Seamus Finnigan shot at him.

"Dean," The boy hissed, heaving a wary look towards Snape, "You're going to make us lose more points. You know that Snape doesn't stop at just 30."

Snape's eyes flashed dangerously, as his voice lowered into that of a growl. "Thomas, Finnigan, I will NOT have you mouthing off and disturbing the peace once more. Out of my classroom, get out! I will not tolerate your lip boy, get out of my sight!"

He impatiently watched as Thomas and Finnigan hurriedly packed their bags. Eager to get away from his barbed tongue, and the small joy that came from being dismissed early.

Snape caught the looks of disbelief on the rest of his students' faces, never before had Snape gone as far as kicking them out of his class. The scandal, and perhaps slight jealousy did not escape Snape's hawk eyes.

"What are you looking at, get back to work!" Snape snapped. "You still have 10 minutes left."

"Severus, you cannot just, 'Excuse' your students from class like that." Dumbledore scolded sternly. His face wrinkled in disappointment, something rarely seen at their weekly staff meetings.

It would seem word had spread. "That is not proper conduct, we cannot have wayward students roaming the halls and disrupting other classes when they are supposed to be learning."

“It was but 10 minutes before dismissal,” Snape said offhandedly. 

“10 minutes,” McGonagall squawked, “Severus, you cannot be serious. Your student’s tell me that you harshly scold them when they are but a minute late. I would have expected you more than anyone to have more tact than this.”

Snape drolly rolled his eyes, “I could not bear to hear one more word out of that miserable boy.”

“If anyone is miserable it would have surely been you.” She muttered under her breath. 

“Yes, well, Dumbledore, have you heard any more of this curse that has been going around? 3 of my classes have been disrupted at least once by someone’s dastard singing. Is there any way to counter the curse, or will I have to suffer the irredeemable lungs of my students much longer.” Snape asked the other.   
“Yes, yes, I quite agree.” Said Flitwick, “There have been numerous disruptions in my classes today, and some of my Ravenclaws have come to me in tears because they have been cursed to burst into song. Even I have felt the need to sing.” 

Madam Hooch nodded, “It is quite hard to teach someone to stay on a broom when a student is screaming Death Metal in your ears. I have to wonder just where my students have heard such awful language.” 

Dumbledore silently raised his hand, as one after another, his staff chimed in with their experiences. 

“Yes, I do agree that this has become quite the predicament. Especially since today is Friday, and the 3rd year students will be allowed to go to Hogsmeade tomorrow. It might just be best to cancel the trip altogether until we have this mystery solved.” 

“Cancel trips to Hogsmeade?” Kettleburn exclaimed, “Are you mad Albus? Surely we would have had enough time to dispel the curse!”

“I’m afraid so, Silvanus. I have only an inkling of what this curse might be. I am not sure and nor am I certain. And I can certainly say that the students are safer if we cancel the trip to Hogsmeade.”

“But the curse isn’t that harmful,” Kettleburn refuted, “It only makes people burst into song.”

“It is not the curse itself that I am alarmed at,” Dumbledore said, placidly, “But the nature of it. It is an unrecognizable curse, one that I have never seen before. I only know that it forces others to sing, and you are only able to sing to others. Even the house-elves have been affected, it’s safe to say the Dwarves are pleased.”

“And Lockhart even more so,” Snape sneered at the man. Who dared to look offended. “Who’s to say that Lockhart hasn’t cast the spell, he cursed the Dwarves didn’t he?”

“W-well, I never!” Lockhart shouted, “I haven’t cursed the Dwarves, and I certainly haven’t cursed Hogwarts either.” 

“You have that look about you,” Said Sprout, who narrowed her eyes at the unfavorable teacher. 

“A suspicious air,” Trelawney added, eager to add her 6 pence. 

“Well, I didn’t,” Lockhart said, looking desperately towards Dumbledore for assistance. Like he always did when the staff ganged upon him. 

‘Pompous git,’ Snape thought bitterly. 

“Yes, it couldn’t have been Lockhart. Everyone had been affected by this curse. Even myself. More than once have I caught myself in the middle of a song. As I’m sure everyone has.” Dumbledore said. 

"Not to mention he's too stupid to have even thought up the curse in the first place. We've all seen your horrid spell casting." Snape added, enjoying Lockhart's extreme displeasure. 

“Not Snape,” Babbling, said suddenly. The previously quiet Ancient Runes teacher shot Severus a suspicious glance. “I have not heard one melody escape his clenched teeth, maybe he’s to blame.”

“Don’t be foolish,” Snape scowled, “Why would I curse the entire school to sing,” He sneered at his fellow staff. “Perhaps the reason why I do not burst into song is that I have more self-control, and discipline than the lot of you put together.”

“More self-control than Dumbledore Severus?” Vector the Arithmancy said, a brow raised. 

Snape hesitated. He did not dare tell them that the curse had not skipped over him as they all thought, he heard the melody. The constant beat that played over and over in his mind. He could only take so much, and his Occlumency shields had already begun to wane after a full day’s work. 

He was not lying when he had told them that he had more control and self-discipline than Dumbledore. He had to if he was to cleverly evade the Dark Lords suspicions while carefully diverting those suspicions off of him. The Dark Lord may have known that Snape was an Occlumens but he would never know how prevalent Snape truly was. 

Snape may fall shy of Dumbledore in many things, Legilimency being a prime example of the man's Superiority. But Occlumency was never one of them. 

And so, Snape did not answer. Leaving the rest of the staff to take his silence as whatever they may have wanted it to be. 

It was not long after that Dumbledore dismissed their staff meeting. Snape was about to storm down to Dinner when he felt Dumbledore’s hand on his shoulder. “Severus, a word in private if you will?”

“What is it?” Snape questioned briskly when the rest of the staff had left the room. 

“Is it safe for me to assume that you were not exempt from the curse?” Dumbledore, asked, his light blue eyes raised knowingly towards his dark ones. And the inkling of suspicion that aroused when Snape had first heard of the curse reappeared. 

“How long would I have to suffer this?” Snape questioned. 

“I should think not long,” Dumbledore said, scratching his puffy white beard.

“Do not take me as a fool,” Snape said hazardously. “This curse, the constant annoying singing of everyone around me. How long should I have to suffer for the constant rhythm to stop? Day’s, weeks even?” 

Dumbledore’s eyes widened, “Rhythm?”

“Yes,” Snape said suspiciously, “That is one of the symptoms. I assumed everyone experienced this, but it seems that I was woefully mistaken.”

“No,” Dumbledore told him, “Not a single student has come to Poppy about a constant rhythm. And nor has it annoyed them so. For me, it has been like that of a pleasant hum, as I am sure it is for others.”

“Then why am I so different?” Snape grumbled, “Perhaps the actual culprit has changed the spell somehow and targeted me as their main victim.”

“I do not believe that to be the case, Severus, perhaps you would do well to remember that there are none as proficient as you in the mind arts, a compliment not to be taken lightly.” Dumbledore mused, “Maybe this curse specifically targets the mind instead of the mouth. And as you are a highly regarded Occlumens it could be that you are preventing the curse from penetrating you, at the cost of discomfort.” 

“If that is the case why did it affect you?” Snape asked, “Understandably, everyone else would have a hard time with the curse, you are the only other one in this school who dabbled into the mind arts. You are skilled in Occlumency. 

“I may be an old man, Severus, but it does not hurt my pride to say that you who are much younger than me are greater than I. I haven’t the need nor the thought to shield my mind at every moment of the day. Not as you have done.”

“You must remember Severus, Shielding your mind take’s energy, and this curse is draining that energy at a much faster rate than you have procured.” 

“So that is my solution then, Release my barriers?” Snape asked in disbelief. 

“Surely this does not trouble you, it would be better for you to surrender to the curse until we find a way to properly dispel it. Your attitude today has not gone unnoticed by your students and not by the other teachers. The way that you snapped at Dean Thomas is unusual.”

“This curse is taking more of a toll on you than usual.” 

“And do what?” Snape drolled “Sing, Yippee-ki-yay, as one Hufflepuff might do?” He smiled at the headmaster sardonically. 

“If you have to, Severus, The curse never stops my boy. And that constant rhythm might become worse. It is frightening the lengths you might go to preserve your reputation but it’s best to let it out before your head explodes. Quite Literally, I might add.” Dumbledore said seriously, “I could not bear to think of the consequences that would occur should you ignore it any longer.”

“It is not my reputation I fear, Headmaster. Although it does strike fear in my heart that you can so clearly imagine me singing as a Hufflepuff might do.” 

“Then you do fear something then?” Dumbledore ignored. 

He was silent for a moment, wrestling with an unknown demon, before quietly admitting defeat, “I have not let down my shield’s since the day that Lily-” 

He dared not to go further. 

“Heaven's sake Severus!” Dumbledore exclaimed, “You mean to say that you have been practicing Occlumency for 12 years, every day with no rest?”

Dumbledore looked at his friend in concern, “Do you not know how dangerous that is, have you not felt the strain even before this curse?”

“Of course I have,” Snape said quickly, uncomfortable at the idea of Dumbledore being worried about him. “It did not bother me as much as this bastardly curse, and I feel as though I would have been fine without it.”

“The mind is not a toy, Severus, but in certain ways, it does act like one. If you play too much with a toy you might find one day that toy broken. Have you ever wondered why humans need sleep? Or why wizards haven’t forgone with sleep and simply made a potion to keep us awake?” 

Dumbledore carried on, uncaring of how Snape might answer him. 

“Sleep is needed for our minds to rest, to restore and rejuvenate, to grow muscle, repair tissue, and synthesize hormones. When we go without sleep our body rejects us, and our immune system weakens. We forget how to function properly.”

“Severus you may have slept for the past 12 years but your mind has not, under the constant thrall of Ocumency.”

“Yes, yes,” Snape said, he closed his eyes as his potion calloused hands rubbed against his temples. “I do not need a lecture. You know that you are just as bad as Binns.”

Dumbledore gave him a look, affronted. 

“I should think not!”

Dumbledore looked at Snape wearily, the lighter mood forgotten. “If you do not feel comfortable with this curse, you are always welcome to sing in front of me. I will not judge.”

“You mean now, in front of you?” Snape asked, his mind as sharp as a knife. “You have gone mad headmaster, I, sing in front of you?”

“I did so with Minerva, and she did so with Filius-”

“And who did Filch sing to? His cat, don’t make me laugh.” Snape cut off. 

But Dumbledore only nodded his face grim, “And so who do you suppose you will sing to? You are only able to sing to another person. You cannot sing to a plant or your cauldron. You haven’t a pet, You dislike your students, and you do not trust the staff and in turn, they, you.”

“Tell me, my dear boy, who in Hogwarts do you have any connection to besides me?”

Snape felt stung. Never before had the words of Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore hurt him so. How dare he suggest that the only person in the world that he could have a pleasant conversation with, was him? 

As if Severus was some sort of dog awaiting his master’s attention? As if he could not make any relationships on his own. As if he was right. 

‘And he was, wasn’t he?’ Snape thought to himself in disgust. 

The fact of the matter was that Dumbledore had been right, ‘Wasn’t he always’, Snape thought mockingly as his lips curled. ‘Always so self-righteous. It makes me sick.’ Snape despised the Gamekeeper Hagrid, his stomach curled at the annoying hag McGonagall, and as it were the rest of the staff of Hogwarts was no better. 

Especially that fraud Lockhart. 

“You dare, Dumbledore?” Snape bitterly thundered, because yes, the headmaster did dare. “You of anyone should know the reason why. It does not surprise me to find that you still carry your Gryffindor arrogance like one would a scarf on a chilly day.”

“A connection, with you? Do not make me laugh. I would never sing to you of my own free will, and even under Imperius. If it is a connection I need it will be a connection that I choose, not you! I bid you a good day, It would seem that I would have to find that connection elsewhere.”

“Goodbye Severus,” Dumbledore said quietly with a sigh, “I am quite sorry that I offended or embarrassed you. I speak thoughtlessly of things that I do not know about. I should have spoken with more discretion.”

Snape said nothing as his dark cloak swung, and he billowed down the hall. He didn’t look back and nor did he accept his conversation with the senile old fool. 

Snape ran a list of his options. He inwardly snarled at the thought of singing to a house elf. Lowering himself to their level. And he refused Dumbledore. It was too much work to convince anyone else and so his only option was to either steal an owl from the owlery, for he did not have one of his own. 

After all, who would he send letters, and who would want to send him any?

Or he would have to have a small chat with his godson. It was no doubt in his mind that Draco’s opinion of him would be lowered significantly if the older man were to burst into song as if he were a fairy. 

Snape weighed his options. He was close to Lucius’ son, having spent many evenings at their manor at the demands of Narcissa. He did feel a slight fondness towards the boy, an uncommon feeling towards a child, and he had protected him many times from the Dark Lord who had insistently wanted Draco to be branded with his mark when he had come to age. 

And to the Dark Lord that age was 11. After all, wouldn’t it do to have a spy who was the same age as his mortal enemy Harry Potter, and as such could get closer to him if the Dark Lord wanted to keep tabs of him, or kill him. 

Thankfully Snape had convinced the Dark Lord otherwise. He scratched the small scar that entwined his fingers. He had convinced him, but one would be wise to never advise the Dark lord. Something he had learned painfully as the Dark Lord snapped every single finger. 

Snape shivered at the memory of his ‘lesson’

“What’s up Snape’s arse?” Someone said loudly to their friend, “Barreling down the halls, knocking over students.”

“A stick probably,” Someone else snickered. 

Snape’s sharp eyes scanned the Great hall for the offender, He did not recognize the voice but he was sure that it had come from Gryffindor. 

His conversation with Dumbledore had been longer than he had thought, his mind heavy when the boy he had been looking for was nowhere to be found. ‘He probably retired to the Common room.’ Snape thought before he felt something soft bump into him. 

He stopped as he found his perpetrator. The menace, Harry Potter. 

The Gryffindor was sprawled out onto the floor after his impact with the Professor. Snape ignored him, as his friends raced towards him. 

“Harry, are you alright?” Granger asked, biting her lips in concern. “He didn’t hit you too hard, did he?”

“Yes, I’m fine Hermione,” Potter said, as his friend pulled him up. “I barely felt it, it was just the force of it, alright. And the surprise.”

Snape was stopped as a familiar and hated red-head stopped him in his path. Standing in Snape's way. He did not have time for this.

“Out of my way Weasley.” 

“You aren’t even going to apologize for plowing Harry?” Weasly exclaimed angrily. 

“Ron!” Granger said scandalized, “He’s a teacher, you shouldn’t be speaking to him so disrespectfully.”

“It’s fine Ron,” Potter said, on his face was a grimace. Perhaps it was meant to be a smile to comfort his friend. “Just let it go, I heard Snape took away 40 house points from Dean just for making noise.”

“30,” Snape could not help but correct.

“What a right git,” Weasly said bitterly. 

“As a matter of fact,” Snape sneered, so deep in thought that he did not hear the gentle hum of music as it crept onto them and filled the air.

Hum, Hum. 

“It was simply Potter’s fault for not watching where he was going. Obviously, he has his father's poor sight, even with those unsightly glasses he couldn’t tell a Snitch from a Quaffle. Now out of my way Weasley, or I’ll be forced to dock more points.”

Snape cursed the fact that he was unable to curse the brat. 

Hum, Hum. 

“Maybe you would do to sing your song someplace else, and get that music away from my sight!” 

All three of them were silent, as they looked at him in confusion. With Weasly looking more than a bit outraged. 

Granger was the first to speak up, “But Professor, I think the music is coming from you.”

“Don’t be daft Granger,” Snape said severely, “It’s unbecoming of a know it all like you. It is not coming from me, and if it is not coming from you three then it surely is coming from someone else in the Great hall. There are plenty of students here.”

“But Professor,” Granger said, ever so eager to prove her point. “We’ve been hearing people sing all day, we know how the curse works by now. If you sing once you break the curse, at least, that’s what I think. Ron and I sang in Charms class, and we haven’t sung since then. Not one lyric.” 

“Then it is Potter,” Snape said irritated. 

“But it’s not, don’t you see Professor, the glowing light?” 

Now that Granger had pointed it out, there was a strange light emanating off of his skin. It was soft and blue, like smoke or fog rolling off a hill. Strangely Snape did not feel a thing. And more than that, he was beginning to feel alarmed. 

“And then you would be locked in place. Or forced to dance in a song.” Granger continued, unaware of the rising panic that Snape was beginning to feel. 

“What is this?” Snape said as he felt his body move on its own. Not unlike that of an imperius. He felt like a puppet on a string. “Stop talking this instant Granger!” At the moment Snape did not care to lower his voice, drawing attention to himself, “Stop talking you silly girl.” 

Granger quickly shut her mouth as she watched in awe, as her Professor glowed blue as though he had been put underneath a spotlight. He was forced to slowly walk forward until he stopped in front of Harry. 

“Don’t you want to know what happens, next Professor?” Weasly asked gleefully, as he watched the discomfort grow on both his best friends and his worst enemies' faces. 

“10 points from Gryffindor,” Snape answered in return. “Perhaps you should learn how to properly count. You would find that now I really have taken 40 points from Gryffindor.”

“You're going to start singing.” 

Snape groaned as a familiar voice called out, “What’s this? Professor Snape is going to start singing? In front of all these students in the Great hall?” 

He shot an annoyed look at Lockhart. 

“I knew that you had a flair for the dramatic, but I never knew that you had such confidence! I applaud you. Who are you going to be singing to? It’s not the boy-who-lived Harry Potter is it!” Lockhart said, gleefully.

“What’s this, Snape’s singing to Potter?” 

“No way, Professor Snape is going to sing to Harry? I hope he doesn’t sing anything too mean.”

“Wait, Can Professor Snape even sing?”

“Shut up, all of you. I’m not going to sing to Potter,” He snapped. Quieting all of the onlookers. “Go back to stuffing your faces, you would do well to leave me alone.”

But the words quickly lost meaning as Potter began glowing an earthy green. 

“Ha, I knew it. I just knew it had to be you, Professor!” Granger crackled. “See I told you, Ron!”

“Yeah, yeah, Hermione. Can’t you see that something’s going on between Snape and Harry.”

“Um, Professor, you don’t really have to sing to me,” Harry stated nervously, his voice loud and pitched as he looked around to the crowd that had gathered.

Each one, curious to what the world-renown, despised Hogwarts Professor had to sing to their beloved Savior. 

“Of course he has to,” Granger said obnoxiously, “You know how it went for me and Ron, and Seamus and Dean, and Ginny and Michael Corner, And-” 

She was cut off by Ron, “We get it, Hermione!”

Snape opened his mouth to harshly scold the Gryffindors when an inert bubbling filled his stomach. It began to slowly climb up through him, a slight tingling touched his body. An unusual feeling that Snape had never felt before overcame him. 

And when that bubble became too fierce, trickling down his lips, and knocking against his teeth, the word ‘It’s’ melodically fell from his lips. 

“It’s what?” Granger questioned curiously. 

Snape did not answer her, he tried to steady himself as another beat of rhythm banged against his Occlumency walls time and time again. He wasn’t aware of his surroundings as an ache of pain slipped through him, like a tide. His vision began to slowly sink away to black as it slowly began to overwhelm him. 

“Professor?” Asked Potter, his voice high with worry. 

“Professor!”

“What do you want, Potter?” Snape said, only for his eyes to catch Potter’s. His voice fell away, as he truly stared at the boy’s eyes for what had to be the first time. Yes, he looked Potter in the eyes once in the while, it was a given. They had lived in the same castle for a year and a quarter. 

But never had he examined Potter’s eyes in it’s fullest. 

“You have Lily's eyes,” He whispered. As Potter looked at the Professor with a question in his eyes. Before Snape, a form took shape, Pink and bright, was the Form of the deceased Lily Potter. She stood between them, lovingly glancing at her son, before giving Snape a hateful glare. 

“Yes, don’t look so surprised Potter,” Snape said, still dazed at this revelation that he did not monitor his words. Or perhaps it was because his Occlumency Shields have finally broken after years of him trying to keep himself from falling apart. 

Snape didn’t register the crowd that surrounded him, or the way Potter’s friends threw questions in the air. To him, all there was in the world was him, and Potter, who stared at him with confusion in his eyes.

Lily’s eyes. 

“We went to school together, I’m not that old Potter. I may not have aged as well as others but I do believe that I am not at fault for that.”

“Who was she to you?” Potter asked, “How did you know my mum?”

“Your mother,” Snape said whimsically. “Why your mother was my very best friend.”

He felt his feet move forward of their own accord, towards the bright pink vessel that resembled Lily.

‘Even in an illusion, she stares at me with those hateful eyes’

Snape’s voice fell into lyric, deep, and somberly filling the empty air. His voice was not conventionally pleasant, as it was rough where it should have been soft, and soft where it should have been rough.  
But none could deny that Snape had a wonderful singing voice.

[I was fine with the men  
Who would come into her life now and again]

He danced with the image of Lily, the crowd parting to allow them ease and access. His voice was calm with the beat, and his long cloak swayed as if it had a mind of its own. The potion master watched with apathy as grey featureless figures danced with Lily, who bared a crafty grin at them. 

[I was fine, 'cause I knew  
That they didn't really matter until you]

Lit in soft Orange was Harry’s father. He stood as proud and as arrogant as he had ever been. Even an illusion could not hide how handsome Potter had been. He smirked as he bowed before taking Lily’s hand. Even then Snape could not deny that ever-present pang in his heart.

In his mind’s eye, Snape didn’t see the hall surrounding him as it did now. Instead, he remembered the hall from the years before the world had turned so dull and grey. Before he and Lily had parted ways.

And even then he saw them. He still could see them to this day, the hidden gazes that Lily could not help but give his tormentor when she smiled at James softly with an expression that he had never gotten to see before when she had thought he had not been watching.

The lingering embraces.

He saw them all, always.

[I was fine when you came  
And we fought like it was all some silly game  
Over her, who she'd choose]

Snape danced with a hidden grace that Hogwarts had not thought he had possessed. Of Course, he did. The years that he had fought to earn himself in Lucius’ good graces, to earn himself a place amongst the purebloods when he was what they hated the most.

A Half-blood. Half Wizard, Half Weakness.

Snape had never hated his father more than he had the days Snape forced himself to learn etiquette. ‘I should already know this, my blood is as pure as theirs. It’s father's fault If only father had never existed’ Young Snape had always thought so hatefully. ‘If only Mother and I could run away to magic, we could live happily at Hogwarts.’

And in a way he did.

The day Snape had come home, just weeks before his 17th birthday to see his mother’s blooded, beaten body, and his father standing over her. A bottle in hand. That day Snape only saw red, and he had finally gotten that wish that he had all those years ago, Hiding in a corner, crying as he hid from his father’s wrath.

That day was the day Tobias Snape disappeared.

Forever.

[After all those years, I never thought I'd lose]

His hand clenched, as Lily’s corporal Illusion leaned back into his arms before she was pulled away from his deep and dreary blue, into the arms of the orange blazing sun. He watched with not a small bit of shame as he saw everything connect in little Harry’s mind.

Harry did not say a word. Green as he was, watching as Snape sang, and danced. He watched with poorly disguised pity, as the Great hall was filled with Grey featureless dancers, who each danced as a pare.

While Snape danced alone, as he always had.

He danced to his song, the word's ‘Isn’t it’ fell from his lip’s like a stone in a pond. Heavy in the memory of a life once lived, once lost. 

There was a terrible silence that seemed to seep through the Great hall, as Students and Teachers alike stared at Snape in disbelief. They all watched as if transfixed, and unable to move.

It was as if they were watching a train wreck, the fast and billowing way it seemed to strike it’s victims, with a silent horror at being unable to look away. He saw the way many cringed as if they could not bring themselves to think of the fact that cold, nasty Snape could ever love someone, and as deeply as he did.

He couldn't help but let his eyes, the only part of him that moved of his own will, wander towards the Bloody Baron, whose gaze never faltered as he stared at the Grey lady.

You won and she chose you and she loved you and she's gone

Snape felt himself burning at his admission, He saw the way that McGonagall reacted when she realized exactly what he had meant. Her hand covering her mouth, and the way that Dumbledore stared at him, as if sad on his behalf.

Why did they not do something?

Why did they not stop him from making a complete and utter fool in front of the school!

Why did they not stop him from making a fool of himself in front of James Potter!

Snape wondered how such a simple curse could cause so much damage. How it could make him feel something that he had buried deep inside of himself for 17 years. A burning that clawed at his throat and his eyes, that made his words turn wobbly out of his own accord.

As if he had lost Lily Evans all over again.

[It's over, isn't it?  
Why can't I move on?]

He had tried Lily, believe him he had tried. There were simply days when the pain of losing her became too great. He learned Occlumency to lessen that pain, and instead, he became dependent on it.

He tore his eyes away from the Happy life that Lily had and tried to move on to someone better. But there was no one better than Lily. There were some days when he failed to take care of himself, his hair already as greasy as it could get.

Witches and Muggles alike squirmed at the very idea of touching him, at the way he had unappealingly filled into his features. He had always hated his nose, his face would do well without it. It was a wonder why he had not gotten rid of it. The way it hooked, and curled, reminding him of his father.

It was not very apparent when he was younger, and held an almost childish beauty that children always held. Soft, where he now was sharp.

But he was his father's son.

Loathsome, Unloveable, Harsh

Ugly

[War and glory, recognition]

For a moment Snape’s Heart lurched in panic, as he thought of what someone might do if they were smart enough to dissect his words, as his song dissected him. 

He would be lying if he said that Lily had transformed him, he had started that many years ago, when he had met Lucius, and delved deep into the Dark Arts. 

He could never be heard quietly admitting his love for the subject that many feared, but Snape found it exciting. The way dark creatures were described, he had felt a small comfort in knowing that there were forces out there more horrible than he was, and uglier than his father. 

He enjoyed learning about forgotten spells and knowing something that few knew. The Dark Art’s made Snape feel special. And so it had broken his heart when it had lost him, Lily. 

Lily herself may not have changed Snape, but her Death did. Never before had he felt such grief. The death of his mother was nothing compared to hers. How his actions caused the love of his life to disappear from within his reach. 

All those days that he spent in his pity party, he had mulled over the right words to say to Lily. Word’s that he had never gotten to utter because she was no longer almost the living to hear them. While in life Lily Evans had not been able to change the heart of Severus Snape, in Death Lily Potter drove Snape to reinvent himself. 

He no longer believed in the Dark Lord’s persuasive words, after all, how could he when the man who he had begged to spare his loved one’s life was more abhorrent than the muggles he had so preached. 

He had become Dumbledore’s spy.

[Actions, subjugation, her expiration]

Jame’s had bullied Snape, that was no lie. His ‘pranks’ were not pranks but a way to dehumanize his actions. They were not harmless, and they had hurt more than Snape had ever dared to let on. 

He knew why Jame’s had specifically bullied him. It was because he had been jealous of his history with Lily. The way he had so encapsulated her attention, and hoarded her away as a greedy dragon might do his treasure. 

Snape could see it after so many years of being blind.   
The way that he had treated Lily as if she were a toy to be played with. He was a vengeful child, but that was what he was, a child. 

He had not learned how to hold his tongue, or how to receive kindness, and so his love for her became an obsession. 

He had put her on a pedestal so far above him that she couldn't climb down. 

He had been scared to let her go freely to her Gryffindor friends in fear of what his might do to him. 

But even more so, he had been scared of what he might do to her.

[Out in spotlight, my potential]

He had always known that he was special. When he had finally learned the truth about magic, he couldn’t help but feel joy at the fact that he, Snape, had belonged somewhere. In a world so different from the one he knew.

It was bright and colorful, whereas he had been dull and grey.

When Lucius had introduced him to the Dark Lord, Snape could not help but admire the greatest wizard of his time. Here was a man who was so talented and special. And when he said that he had thought of Snape as special too, Snape couldn’t help but believe him.

After all, no one else had ever told him that.

He knew that Lily, his dear friend, would deny ever thinking of him as ‘not-special’ but there were times that she did. When she would ignore his accomplishments in favor of his own. He did not blame her then and he could not blame her now.

She had been a small child, who had to been introduced to the wonders of magic, of being known as special. More than. And in her own way, when they had been sorted into different houses’ she had pushed him away.

And while he could blame James, Sirius, Remus, and Peter for being immature and making his life a living hell. Of worsening his strained relationship with his best friend.

And he could blame Lily for pushing him away, for finding new friends, and defending his enemy when he was the one in need of defending.

Snape knew that he could only blame himself. He had pushed Lily away into Jame’s arms. His obsessive and possessive behavior around her. His cutting words bordered on harsh jokes that friends told each other and abuse when Avery, Rosier, and Mulciber had done something partially cruel and unnecessary and he, like Lupin did nothing to stop them.  
He was at fault for believing that the Dark Lord had seen potential in him that no one else had before.

[Timorous, careless, my thoughts questionable  
Who am I now in this world without her?]

Because he wasn’t special. He was like everyone else, and different from everyone else, he was a sad, lonely, resentful old man. A poor teacher who, even with the help of Occlumency could not help but snap and spat acidic words towards undeserving children as his father had done to him. 

Because what else was he but bitter at his rivals' conquest?

Bitter at something that had happened 17 years ago. 

[Bitter and shallow with the nerve to doubt her]

If only he had listened to Lily about his dark path. Where has it led him but regret? The Dark Lord and his pure-blooded friends with their beliefs of Muggles as though they were less than. What had the Muggles done to them but exist?

Snape hated Muggles on the account of his father, and the way Lily’s parents had regarded him with suspicion because of his lowly background. But he marginalized people who he had not even given a chance.

It had been years since he had finally let go of his hate for his father and had come to the understanding that Muggles were no different from him. He had even come to the appreciation of Muggle inventions. Pens were one thing that he had loved, they were simple and less of a hassle than the quills that he had to enchant.

Customizable, and sturdy, and held ink instead of forcing him to dip it. And if he had wanted to, he could add a feather.

His friends had been wrong. They had been wrong about their beliefs about Muggles and they had been wrong about him. Where were they when he had been cornered by Jame’s forced to retaliate?

Sure Snape provoked Potter and his friend's plenty of times, he was at fault too. But the fact that it had always been 4 against 1, had never sat well with him. Especially when he had 3 other friends just as Potter had.

And now down the years, they were either dead or lost.

Lost just as he had been.

[What does it matter? It's already done  
Now I've got to protect her son]

Finally, after all this time. Snape could see Harry for who he truly was. He had hated the boy the minute he saw him. He was a split image of his father, and his personality was frighteningly similar.  
Only instead of a prejudiced against Slytherin that Snape had seen in Potter, he did not see that in Harry.

Whereas he had only seen the Jame’s in Harry, he could now recognize Lily in him. He was kind where others were brash, quiet when others had been loud. Snape did not turn a blind eye to how uncomfortable Harry had been in others' presence when he had first stepped foot into Slytherin. But he has brushed it off as Arrogance, alienating the boy even further.

It made no sense to blame the boy for who his parents were. Jame’s son, and Lily’s last resistance. He could feel a small ache, she had always gotten what she had wanted. He thought, bittersweet.

He had been awful to her son and treated him the only way he knew how to treat others. His lifestyle didn’t teach him how to be kind to others. His parents never taught him that, it was Lily who did. And how was he to repay her kindness, but lash his anger out on her only living son, and take a grim satisfaction at what remained?

But he didn’t deserve that, even Snape so trapped in self-pity could see that.

He could only look the boy in the eyes now, honestly.

Smoldering emeralds that stared back at him, without the hate that usually formed. These eyes were not staring at him in disgust or fury. They mirrored another time and a story about a boy and a girl, in a park.

They were eyes that still held that spark of childish wonder, still so unburdened from the weight of the world.

Their world.

Because that’s what it had been.

It had been theirs.

[You won and she chose you and she loved you and she's dead  
It's over, isn't it?  
Why can't I move on?]

Snape could feel the curse waning, it’s strength leaving his body, as the remnants of the music’s last note touched the air, and the last few verses left his dry lips.

His blue skin slowly returned to their normal pale color. If not paler than before. He had finally stopped dancing and took one last glance to the pink ghost of Lily. She smiled knowingly before she and Potter slowly disappeared.

[It's over, isn't it?  
Why can't I move on?]

Potter was still glowing a deep green, as bright as ever before.

It was then and there that Snape decided to be better. He would do it for Lily, he would do it for Potter. He would protect him, just as he had promised. Even if he had to protect him, from himself.

And around him was the sound of unlikely applause.

Students could not help but begrudgingly clap, as Dumbledore's eye’s twinkled.

And a ghost of a smile reached Snape’s lips, because finally.

It was finally over.

Fin.


End file.
